On facebook you have messages you receive under the "other" tab. I never check these but today I did. I'm so glad I did.
Mehrdad hi sweetheart this is me mehrdad call me merdado the guy who draw you and sing a song fr enrico iglesais for you in caffee shop ... i usually draw cars.. views.. profiles.. etc i would love to having you as a firend come and visit sweden stockholm againe you are always wlc... but, i never been in usa this is my dream let my dream come true y told me that you are photograf and journalist and worke with old pple healt care ? am i right =? correct me!!! you have such a beautiful eyes.. u remind me... some famouse actress. i forgot the name but i try to tell you soon, your eyes look like phenelp crouz and face like madonna.. leaps like fish lips;) sorry if y bouther y ... did you record the sing ( hero fr enrico) i sang for you? do y have skype? email adress let me send y a few pictures and art collection fr me so y can see and enjoy i love to be famouse actor... hollywood etc perhaps you can help me .. i been living in sweden since 1990.. i arrive with my parents sisters here and start fr highschool then collage and i drive blue bmw and blue is my favorite coloure... so what your story tell me a little more about yourself? who was that lady she waset happy when i gave you alot of compliment and tried to draw you ppl in sweden are unsocial closed they like silence and dont talk to much.... im fr iran persia allways happy i dance salsa sing song and draw on my free time as a hobby i own two cars one classic car vw scirocco,, and Bmw... what car do y drive when is your births day next time when y arrive to stockholm tell me or call me i collect you with my car,, if y want to... You just can't make this shit up.
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I am waiting for a taxi at the bus station in Florida. This station is really sketchy. Directly across the street there is a field filled with shady people. I am talking to my mom on the phone smoking a cigarette while I wait. This giant dude walks up to me, thinking he can intimidate me. I get really defensive at times. He says "AY GIMME A CIGARETTE." Like he's a big man. I ignore him and continue to talk to my mom.
"I SAID GIMME A MOTHER FUCKIN' CIGARETTE!" I slowly tilt my head in his direction, shooting daggers at this fuck with my eyes. I tell my mom to hold on a minute and I hold the phone away from my face all the while I am fighting off the urge to kick this guy in the balls. "Who the fuck do you think you are? You are so rude. Back the fuck off." "Naw you bein rude I'm tryin' talk to you and you on the phone! Gimme a cigarette" He starts to get in my face. Too close for comfort. "Fuck you, I'm not giving you a cigarette." I stare him down like I will tear his face off. I walk away, he doesn't follow. "Is everything okay!? What's going on? Are you okay?" My mom asks after hearing everything that just happened. I tell her not to worry and that everything is fine. Just a big man trying to intimidate a lady. Clubs in Pontiac Michigan are pretty shit. Pontiac is similar in a lot of ways to Detroit. The club scene in Michigan is great. Especially if you are interested in the scuzzy type.
I am wearing hiking shoes, blue jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. My friends are pretty hilarious. We stick out against the sparkly short dresses and spiked up hair like a sore thumb. I am in the center of the dance floor, my friends are sweating profusely from all the dancing around me they are doing. I am uncomfortable and I don't want to dance. Then one of them starts chanting my name. It goes from being a chant of my name to chanting dance. Suddenly everyone who is near to us is looking at me yelling DANCE! DANCE! DANCE! I refuse, but the chanting continues. I start dancing. On the way out this guy stops me. He is tattooed all over, including his face. He tries to spit some game. "Ay girl, you know why I like you. You ain't like these other bitches dressin' all slutty n' shit." "Yeah, because I am dressed like a grandma." He tries to tell me he is really young. There is no way in hell. He pulls out identification to prove his age. He doesn't even have a drivers license. I bid him a farewell. We left the club, I swore to never return again. Except I did, time after time. A woman goes through menopause at around 40. We begin our change. We experience hot flashes, mood changes and our bodies retire from being baby making machines. The baby making factory closes its doors. That is the natural evolution of a woman's life.
I have never seen a woman above the age of 38 carrying a baby... Until I was in Stockholm. What makes Swedish women more fertile and able to carry a baby at 65. I don't understand. I saw two women within one day, well past the age of menopause, who were clearly pregnant. I am talking thin legs and arms and giant baby bellies. I am in awe of this still. How the hell can these.. dare I say, elderly women be carrying babies!? It must be something in the water. I've been in Sweden for awhile. It has been a very mild experience. Nothing strange has happened and Sweden is overall quiet and perhaps a little boring at times. I guess that is why I haven't written anything about it yet. There are stories to tell but those need a little more processing before I can portray them well enough for anyone to be interested in reading them.
Except for yesterday. I went to Stockholm with the lovely Valda. We went to a restaurant in the evening. A man from Yugoslavia and a Persian were working. They were friendly enough and we chatted a little bit. Then things got weird.....pretty damn weird. First the Slovian guy starts talking about giving us a ride and it's a little much. Then he tells the Persian dude to tell me about how beautiful my eyes were. The persian guy is swearing up and down that he is only translating and he is not trying to be weird. I believed him. I shouldn't have. I come out of the bathroom and the Persian guy is standing there. He is armed with a portfolio full of his drawings and he is about to lay things on really thick. He starts saying he will draw me and asks for my name. I told him my name, planning on him never finding me but if he does just blocking him. Then he shows me all of his drawings and says "Pleeaase" All sweaty and beginning to seem like he's on drugs. "Let me draw you quickly, ok?" What do I care. He's sitting there drawing me. He looks fucked up on something for sure now. He is sweating and talking quickly. He wants to come to the USA, he has friends but he needs me to be his sponsor. He misses the USA, I ask him if he has ever been. He hasn't. He starts rambling on, speaking extremely fast, talking about how he is studying film too sometimes. (I am filming him now) He then begins impersonating Enrique Iglesias while I am sitting there laughing at him. It's weird. Valda says we need to leave in swedish to him. He freaks out and starts speaking quickly in Swedish and then he shows me a picture of him and his girlfriend. I would like to try to quote him exactly. "This is my girl, we have relations. She is from Finnish and she is with me in this picture. We are dressed up like Hollywood. I want to be famous. I want to be in hollywood. This is my girl I am not doing anything bad I am just trying to draw you and everyone thinks so bad of me. I just want to be famous and friends and I am sorry but god bless you ok. I didn't mean to make you upset" Within a 10 second span. I am pretty amused by this guy. We leave, I will never see this strange persian man again. But we left with some parting words. "You look like a mixture of twin peaks and Angelina jolie." This is the picture he drew of me... except it looks like I have boobs and somehow I managed to slip a bracelet on. |
WARNING:
Usage of tasteful profanity which you might not consider tasteful. Some stories are vulgar. Colorful language and descriptions included. Reading these stories may cause you to become offended, appalled and uneasy. You have been warned. Read with caution. Categories
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